


It's A Musical: A Galavant Extravaganza

by MarlaLannisterErsoDanGlokta



Category: Galavant (TV), Something Rotten! - Kirkpatrick/Kirkpatrick/O'Farrell
Genre: F/M, I Ship It, M/M, Multi, This Is STUPID, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-07-14 13:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16041119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarlaLannisterErsoDanGlokta/pseuds/MarlaLannisterErsoDanGlokta
Summary: The Galavant gang time travel to the future...the Renaissance future, where they are about to meet the greatest writer in British History, his older brother, their friends and family and, well, an egomaniac with eyeliner.Or, in other words, Galavant gang meets Something Rotten! gang.This is written for and with the help of @WesteraDelNorte and @YouveGotRedOnU_ who are as amazing as a musical, if not even more.This is kind of dumb and crazy, buf I hope you like it.





	1. God, I hate time travel!

**Author's Note:**

> In this first episode I meaaaan chapter we only have the Galavant gang, and it's kind of short but, still, I hope you enjoy it.  
> Sorry for the mistakes, Spanish speaker here.  
> Oh, and also for aaaaall the references, I promise I will control myself in the following ones.

GOD, I HATE TIME TRAVEL

Galavant frowned angrily as they all stood in front of the castle of the evil wizard with whom Magdalena was supposed to be.  
“Then again, why are all here?”  
“Apparently, it was necessary for the writer in order to have an actual plot.” Sid answered, as if it was the most normal thing ever.  
“Writer? Wasn’t there a whole bunch of those jackass?” Gareth asked.  
“Nope, this time is only one. And she’s kind of crazy, she called me Timothy once and kept giggling every time Gareth and I interacted…do any of you guys know what OTP means?”  
A general ‘no’ came from the whole gang there united.  
Isabella and Roberta crossed their arms, growing impatient.  
“Are we going to enter or what?”

The regular adventure took place, defeating some minions weak enough to be beaten up even by the Chef and the Jester and going through some corridors way too long for the building’s external architecture.  
Then, finally, they found the wizard -a short blonde middle-aged man wearing the most extravagant robes imaginable, as if he wanted to hide his real aspect- and Magdalena when they were about to sell the woman’s soul to make her able to gain ultimate power.  
Gareth, moved by his usual impulsivity when he got mad, held a small blue rectangular box that seemed to be important for the owner of the castle and threatened the man with breaking it if he didn’t stop the magical ceremony.  
“Stop, you fools!”  
“Hey! If you are going to copy Gandalf at least say the right line.” Everyone turned to the young black squire.  
“Shut up Sid!”  
“Yeah, shut up...whomever you are. And I really mean it, if you threw it we all be transported into the future. Now, if you may allow us to continue the ritual.”  
“This is your fault”. The ex-royal guard smashed the Timely Adventurely Rarest Device Inside Science into the floor. 

The wizard was gone. Only Richard, Magdalena, Gareth, Galavant, Isabella que Sid stood in the middle of a Shakespearean London street.  
Sid looked around with disappointment.  
“Oh, come on! If we travelled to the future...why aren’t there any cars?”


	2. OY! WHAT A TIME!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Renaissaaance!  
> The Galavant gang discover where they have ended and met a group of people who should totally be in America if they want to keep their heads in the right place...  
> I suck at summaries, so sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might not (probably won't) be very good, but was hard to write, hella hard. I almost ended up performing Hard To Be The Bard while writing it.  
> I just hope you enjoy it and excuse all my Spanish speaker and too quick typer mistakes  
> Allons-y!

OY! WHAT A TIME!

“Oh, come on! If we travelled to the future...why aren’t there any cars?”  
Out of the blue, a man started singing.

"War of the roses, Chaucer's tale  
The brutal feudal system  
Holy crusade, bubonic plague  
Can't say that we've really missed them  
So dark and barbaric, so dull and mundane  
That was so Middle Ages  
That was so...Charlemagne...  
Welcome to the Renaissance!  
With poets, painters, and bon vivants  
And merry minstrels  
Who stroll the streets of London  
A strumming they lutes".

Tons of people appeared out of the blue, acting as if they had been there the whole time:  
Two men who looked clearly drunk joined the melody:  
"In puffy pants and pointy leather boots!"

As if they had pushed an activation button, all the townspeople started singing too.  
"Welcome to the Renaissance  
Where we ooh and aah you with ambiance  
We're so progressive  
The latest and the greatest  
We bring it to you...with much ado about something!  
Welcome to the Renaissance  
Where everything is new  
Except this melodyyyy”.

Gareth groaned.  
“Can’t we get free of the random singing for one single bloody day?!” He made an angry gesture with his arm to the air or, well, to where there had been only air until a few seconds ago.  
Now, there was a man dressed in this Renaisomething fashion that felt to the floor with the hit.  
A woman, also in that place’s clothing, next to him reacted quicker than Galavant in his best times, took Gareth’s sword and managed to menace both Madalena and Richard at the same time.  
“Hit my husband again and you’ll see the consequences, Middle-Age weirdo. And, now, you and your friends’ d better start explaining why we are back in London, because I am positive it is your fault. Whomever you are.”  
Both Richard and Galavant approached the scary fierce and her companions (now they realised she was accompanied not only by her unconscious husband, but also by a young cinnamon-roll looking couple, a most-like-to-be seer and a toddler) and start trying to talk at the same time.  
With an anxious expression, the probable seer made them shut up.  
“Um...better for our heads if we do this in a close place…”  
The ‘boss’ of the group gasped.  
“You are right. Come on, we are moving; and I want her to tell the story, she seems more reasonable than the rest of you.” She pointed at Isabella, who smiled widely.  
“I like her. Princess Isabella, nice to meet you”.  
“Bea Bottom”.

When Isabella ended their story, after trillions of interruptions of her friends (who seemed to have lived different lifes from her, all in which they were always the main heroes -and, in Madalena’s case- Isabella herself was the clumsy villain), the two Bottom brothers -whose names they had learned were Nick and Nigel- looked fixedly at Richard.  
“So...you are Richard, king of the Seven Realms of Historical Inaccuracy, set in That-Place-Of-England-Nobody-Can-See-In-An-Actua-Map?”  
“Yeah! This is the first time in the entire show when somebody says the whole name! Thank you!”  
“Excuse me, um...my lord, but I believe now we are in a play, not a show.” Galavant smacked Sid on the back of his neck.  
“Shut up, Nick. I believe they are about to have a moment.”  
“Thank you, best friend!”  
“Whatever, please, finish the Moment.”  
“Yes, of course...Why do you ask, Mister of Bea Bottom?”  
The woman laughed.  
“I like him already, he gets things.” Nick made as if he hadn’t heard her.  
“I am asking because...our mother...well...she didn’t have a very good relationship with her dad, but...how to say it…”  
“Because then we art in front of our longeth hath lost grandfath'r” Nigel interrupted with enthusiasm.  
Gareth looked at him with confusion.  
“Wait, what did he just say?”  
Galavant, a little bit hesitant, answered.  
“I believe he has just said that Richard is his grand old man. Am I right?”  
“Yep”. Both asked in unison.  
Richard was out of himself with excitement.  
“I just can’t believe my grandchildren are such good lads!”  
Madalena hissed.  
“Not so good if they are sentenced to dead.”  
“Wait, how do you know that, ex-wife?”  
“We told you, but it wasn’t in the storyline itself because the Author is too lazy to think about how to write down that dialogue without it being infodumping.” It was Nostradamus -the seer-like man- the one who answered, as he seemed to be in some kind of mystical trance. “Oh, and beware the purple man.”  
“That also has to do with all this bullshit?” Gareth asked.  
“Naih, it was for the whole Universe, in general, at some point.”  
“Ah, ok.” They all said, without really knowing how to react to the man’s weird words.  
“And about why we are sentenced to dead in case we stay in London...is because the biggest son of a bitch of History of Mankind, the most pompous little brat the world has everknown, the assholish asshole…”  
“Another writer fooled them.” Bea cut his husband’s ranting about Shakespeare, tired of the -sometimes- whole evenings of this kind of speeches. “And stole Nigel’s greatest play so far.”  
A light turned on in Galavant’s head.  
“This...this is a classic hero’s quest! For a shiny knight looking for justice!”  
“Former shiny knight.” Isabella corrected him.  
“Whatever. You two, tell me the man’s name and he’ll pay for his actions.”  
Some epic music had started to sound as he spoke and, moved by the man’s enthusiasm (as well as imagining Will’s freaked out expression before Galavant cut his head off; or something of the kind), Nick shouted it with all the strength of his lungs.  
“WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, THE FREAKING BARD!”  
Before anyone could stop him, Galavant run, in the search of The ‘Freaking’ Bard.

He found him in a tavern, surrounded by what seemed to be a group of fans.  
“William Shakespeare. It is I, Sir Galavant, who has come in the name of the Bottom brothers (and family and friends) to correct the affront you made.”  
The other man looked clearly confused.  
“Wait...Galavant as in…’Gary Galavant’ from Medieval Times?”  
“Exactly, you twatt!”  
Not in a million years he could have guessed the next word of the most famous writer in British History.  
“Grandfather!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to put a Marvel reference because it just felt right after something a certain Dove told me about the previous chapter...  
> ...this is all so far, but I promise episode three next week.  
> Long life and prosperity,  
> Marla


	3. My Alive Bi Grandson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galavant is about to see what has happened with his legacy...and to reencounter a very especial Enchanted Queen...  
> ...I still suck at summaries, sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was LONG. Yeah, an probably too many references (even a Star Wars one, sorryyyyyyy, next chapter I'll be more careful, I swear).  
> Just hoping you like it, and sorry again for my non-native speaker mistakes.  
> Thoughts in between brakets [ ]  
> Geronimo!

MY ALIVE BI GRANDSON  
“Grandfather?!” As he said it, Will dismissed a man sitting in his lap. “Sorry Ben, another day, love your Scottish accent.”  
The medieval ex-knight-turned-into-consort-prince wanted to say something. After all, this all seemed like a joke: first, the descendants of Robert and now...his?   
However, a familiar voice spoke before him.  
“You lying bastard! You said you didn’t know anything about Sir Galavant!”  
An explosive blonde woman in a way too tight dress for the century appeared from behind the bar. She hadn’t aged a day and Galavant had no problem on recognising her: she was The Queen of the Enchanted Forest.   
[Wait, but the Enchanted Forest was in our realm, why is it in London now?]  
Meanwhile, his supposed grandson had started to stutter.  
“I...the conversation…” He cleared his throat, arrogance back in his face. “I didn't seemeth liketh an imp'rtant fact to pointeth out”.  
“Don’t use your sexy talking on me, Bard, you know, mainly because I told you in…”  
“A PLACE I WANT TO KNOW AS MUCH AS JON SNOW KNOWS ABOUT EVERYTHING”. If that Man was really related to him, he clearly didn’t wish to hear a single thing about his bed affairs (which, apparently, were not restricted to women, which was the only non negative so far he had heard about the man).   
Everyone gave Galvant a weird look.  
“Jon Who?” A sickly -kind of deathly- pale ginger man holding hands with an equally pale brunette one asked.  
“Just...forgive the Author for the references intromission”. The man answered looking directly to you, dear reader.”Now, continue the storyline as if this hadn’t happened but, please, omit the details rated over 18, pretty please.”  
The Queen continued.  
“The point, you lied. And you KNEW that I came to the Real World because he escaped my original Enchanted Forest, dooming me to have to fake my death multiple times in order not to get burned for being a witch! For heritage, YOU BELONG TO ME!” Suddenly, she smiled playfully. “Actually, this might turn alright...Guys, catch them both!”   
An also well-known music started in the background.  
Galavant groaned.  
“Crap, I know this one”.  
The off-time villain began her song:  
“You runned away from my kingdom,  
but now you are back in my sway.  
Which basically means,  
as a Queen of all Queens,  
I’m going to make you pay…”  
Two men in the back of the taberna made some chorus:  
“Will we be throwing them in the dungeon?”  
“Or tossing one to the bear?”  
The woman laughed in her best Disney villain style.  
“Well, one thing for sure  
We’ll settle the score  
And trust me, it’s more than fair...  
Off with their upper parts, yeah!  
Strip them whole  
Don't be shy boys, go to The Globe.”  
All the men in the tavern surrounded them.  
“I am having Series Finale Battle flashbacks" Galavant complaint. He took a deep breath and turned to his pretty-scared-by-now relative.”I was going to fight you or something of the fashion, but now I guess we should escape together. Gods! How many times am I going to do that with my supposed enemies?! Ok, follow me!”  
He kneeled and started crawling, pushing away all the legs on their path.  
Luckily, the bar had the same distribution it had has back in his times, so he just escaped following the same route, making sure the other man was behind him the whole time.  
Once back in the streets and, at a some distance from the Enchanted Forest, Galavant decided to be Serious.  
“A daughter of mine also ran away with someone I didn’t approve?”  
“What do you mean by 'also’?”  
“Long story, it’s about those poor brothers you stole from”.  
“That is questionable, being mine, Hamlet is even better”.  
The newly discovered grandfather looked at him with disgust.  
“I can’t believe we are related”.  
“If you are really dumb enough to consider that defending those two is a brilliant idea, I have troubles believing it too”.  
A pair of young women walked next to them.  
“Looking fine, Sir”.  
“Not as good as you, my ladies”. Both answered with similar flirting gestures. Then, they stared at each other and groaned.  
Both seemed to want to add something, and they actually had almost ten minutes to do so, but then some men from the tavern appeared, in order to bring them back.  
“Ok, two against two. You know how to fight, right?”  
Shakespeare laughed.  
“Have you actually seen me?! I even wear eyeliner!”  
“I wear eyeliner too! I mean, not every day, sometimes, rarely, just forget it...But you are an actor.”  
“And WRITER, never forget.”  
“God, you are tiresome. What I meant is, you can PRETEND you can fight.”  
“Please, I can pretend I am better than you”.  
“Whatever. Then, this is what we are going to do…” He lowered his voice to the point it couldn’t even be read as a dialogue.  
“Ey! You two, stop plotting! We have to kidnap you but it’s kind of rude to interrupt you; and we are British".   
Suddenly, Galavant started shouting.  
“OH, JUST TAKE HIM, THIS BASTARD DOESN’T DESERVE ANY BETTER!”  
Will answered, equally infuriated:  
“NO, TAKE HIM. I AM THE LIVING PROVE OF GENERATIONAL IMPROVEMENT!”  
Then, to the Queen’s minions surprise, they started fighting for a couple minutes, until Shakespeare knocked his grandad down.  
“So...if the writer did that to the Great Hero, if both came to us...we lost them, right George?”  
“Totally Ringo, good morning!”  
Both left as quickly as they could, genuinely scared. After a little while, Galavant stopped faking, stood up and laughed.  
“That was fun, gods.”  
“Yeah. Not related, but I have a question...what is your religion exactly? Because you keep mixing ‘gods’ with ‘god’.”  
The other man frowned.  
“Not really sure...the worldbuilding wasn’t very good in our time line with that aspect; I only know for sure is that Sid is Jewish...are you?”  
“Naih, I like to consider myself as agnostic, although a weird girl with the biggest ey badges in History of Mankind I came across yesterday said I was a christian.”   
“Wait, what? You have also see the dumb girl that keeps appearing way too more than que should?”  
“Apparently. She said, ‘Hey! Christian! Something wicked this way comes!’ and ran away giggling. Actually, that was a pretty good line...maybe for a prophethy by three witches? Still working on it.”  
“Yeah, well...whatever...but...I still have to avenge the Bottoms…” He smirked deeply. “I had a brilliant idea...you said you had no idea of fighting, which is perfect because I am kind of tired.” Without further ado, he punched into real unconsciousness the owner of the Globe.

Meanwhile, Richard was talking about hid recently deceased pet, which happened to be a dragon.  
Nick was just blinking with astonishment at that revelation.  
“So...you actually had an actual dragon as a pet?”  
“Yeah, his name is...was Tad Cooper” He looked extremely sad as he corrected himself, as an abandoned puppy, but he put himself together back before anyone -except for Gareth, that didn't want to ashame him or himself by hugging him- could realise.   
“Tad...what?” Nick asked, still trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours.  
Nigel, however, had caught the name the first time.  
“IT’S THE BEST NAME IN THE WORLD!”  
“I KNOW!” Richard replied, equally excited.  
A knock in the door ruined the mood.   
“It's me, Galavant, please open.”  
They did so to find that he was holding an unconscious Shakespeare.  
“WHAT THE F…?!” Nick started.  
“A PROPHECY IS COMING!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nostradamus spoke!  
> Yeah, cliffhanger again (here I can not say I am sorry, because leaving this open is bad, but lying is WORSE).  
> Justo wanted to comment that the Enchanted Forrest scene exists thanks to a beautiful girl who I really really hope will go to the SDCC 2019, before Will and Gal were going to bond after a regular bar fight.  
> And the Tad Cooper conversation came from Winterfel's favourite Dove.  
> As always, I really wish you all enjoyed it,  
> And feedback appreciated,  
> Long live and prosperity,  
> Marla Lannister Erso Dan Glokta


	4. YOU STUPID  SADISTIC BITCH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Portia is just tired of Isabella and Madalena fighting.  
> Oh! And Nostradamus makes a propercy.  
> Remember when I said I suck at summaries? It doesn't get any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii!  
> Yeah, the tittle is dedicated to myself for killing off Tad Cooper and...BECAUSE IT IS A CRAZY EXGIRLFRIEND REFERENCE AND ONE OF THE BEST SHOWS EVER IS BACK THIS WEEK!  
> Hope you enjoy and, as always, sorry for my Spanish speaker and quickly tiper mistakes.

YOU STUPID SADISTIC BITCH

“Hi! Yeah, it's me, The Jester. I know what you're thinking: Wasn't I supposed to still be in my own time line? Indeed I am, but, as the official narrator of the Legend of a Hero Known as Gaaalavant, here I am just to say one single bit crucial line…What is it? That I should have said it already? That time is running out and maybe people want to read the actual story? That I am not getting paid for speaking about myself? Ok, alright, here It goes:  
Back in their “safe place”, while Galavant discover what his legacy looks like, our favorite females are kind of hanging out all together in a room…”

...Portia wasn't used to get truly truly Angry. Not even that time when all of her multiple siblings (older and younger, birth control wasn't a thing yet) had mocked her for liking writing and reading for a whole week every single minute they spent with her (then, they got bored of the girl not getting mad at them and they left her alone), not even when a 'friend’ she had had at twelve told her it was gross that she had a crush in both Romeo and Juliet, or -talking about Shakespeare- when The Bard had tricked Nigel and stole his masterpiece.  
But Madalena and Isabella arguing were just TOO MUCH.  
“You two shut the fuge up or I'll...write a extremely shameful poem about your childhood!”  
Her menace wasn't specially scary. However, her pissed face was more than enough to make both women go silent.  
“Why are you so mean to each all the time about EVERYTHING?! Haven't you heard about sorority?”  
Bea, who was taking care of little Georgia and just pretending those two weren't there, couldn't buf totally agree with her sister-in-law.  
“Yeah, Portia is right...kind of. I mean, you are tiresome and right now what you were fighting about was literally whether the weather here is UNBELIEVABLY wet or EXTREMELY wet. Then, about sorority...don't worry, women our Century haven't heard about it, either, I just hope one day things will change…But I am not stupid, I don't expect it to happen until the 22nd Century in the best case scenario.”  
“You are being too gloomy about that, Bea.” Portia added. “I am sure a couple of centuries more will be enough”.  
Bea scoffed.  
“Oh, sweetheart, you are like the little sister I always wish I had, but sometimes you are so bloody naive you seem to be the dumbest person on Earth. Going back to all your bitching...You had already told the whoooole story while nobody was reading, and we all know we have a lazy storyteller that won’t allow us to tell everything in front of the screen but...do you really believe you still have to hate on each other every single second you are alive?”  
“Of course! Madalena is like the most evil wicked selfish sadistic woman I’ve ever met, with the exception of Aunt Georgia Rowena Rachel Martin, that one is a total psycho.”  
“Well, seeing the land you come from, for her to have such a rich and strong personality in a time where women were so objectified and treated as any other object is quite a Thing. And, I am not denying she can be evil, but...she has done nothing mean -except insulting you- in her time here and she, as I was saying, Quite a Thing.”  
Portia stared way too intensely at Madalena, who started feeling more uncomfortable than in her wedding day (and that was saying something).  
Bea coughed.  
“Ehem, Portia, what did I told you and Nigel about fangirling too much in front of your crushes?”  
“That we either look like crazy stalkers or end up being fooled by pretentious bastards.”  
“Exactly.”  
“And with THIS ONE, both options are likely.” Isabella intervened.  
Madalena turned red with anger and prepare to answer back when Bea decided she had had enough.  
“YOU TWO STOP ALREADY AND LOOK AT EACH OTHER IN THE EYE! YOU ARE JUST TWO WOMEN BEING AS DUMB AS THE REGULAR MANLY MEN USUALLY ARE! SHOW THEM THAT WE CAN BE BETTER! AND STOP STARTING CAT FIGHTS FOR ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!”  
Madalena and Isabella obeyed Bea -it was hard not to do so- but, when they were about to finally call it a truce, Nostradamus screams’ made them leave the room to reunite all the guys.

“A PROPHECY IS COMING!”  
He started singing a melody nobody in the room knew and that didn’t sound like a prophecy at all.  
“Deep inside of everyone  
There's a hot ball of shame  
Guilt, regret, anxiety  
Fears we dare not name  
But, if we show the ugly parts  
That we hide away  
They turn out to be beautiful  
By the light of day!”  
All stared at him. Even Shakespeare, that has woken up to found himself tied up by his grandfather to a chair (Galavant was worryingly quickly when it came to tie people up), was paying attention to the terrible propercy man with genuinely curiosity.  
“As I already complained two chapters ago, WHY ON FREAKING EARTH WE ALWAYS END UP HAVING MUSICAL NUMBERS?!” Gareth complained.  
Nostradamus started laughing nervously.  
“Oh, sorry, that wasn’t the Prophecy...the crazy stupid sadistic bitch that was supposed to tell me was listening to that song and I got mistaken...The prophecy...NOW IS COMING!  
‘Only a true honest open feeling declaration  
made with a poetic inclination  
that should have been done a long time ago  
will bring you all home.’  
(End note: Yeah, I know I am not Nigel Bottom, sorry, next time ask a serious oracle, or a Percy Jackson Universe one, if they are not available).”  
Everyone went silent for a whole minute and, then, out of the blue, Nick seemed to have had a revelation.  
“Hold on...I KNOW WHAT WE HAVE TO DO.” He pointed at Richard.”WE HAVE TO DEDICATE A MUSICAL TO THE PASSED TAD COOPER!”  
Nobody said a thing for a few more minutes, until Nostradamus smiled widely and approached Nick.  
“Actually, that sounds like a GREAT idea. And, do you know what? There is a line of that song I was singing before that totally goes with this moment…  
SHINE, SHINE A LIIIIGHT!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I suck at poems in Spanish, so in English...sorry por the shitty propercy.  
> The idea of a musical based on Tad Cooper is from my two main "muses" for this story.  
> I made Bea and Nick's kid a girl literally by throwing a coin into the air...  
> ...and the name (Georgia) is because of that AWESOME video of the Schuyler Georges (https://youtu.be/3C4vmM5mQT8) where her daddy played Eliza (sorry not sorry)  
> Next week more le this crazy, nonsense thing I am actually pretty excited about (thaaanks tons to those two especial people I started writing this formas that have given me part of the plot, eternally grateful).  
> Long live and prosperity,  
> Marla Lannister Erso Dan Glokta


	5. IT'S NOISY UPTOWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our (kind of) heroes have put their minds on their musical about Tad Cooper, believe it's the only way they will be able to go back to their time...all of this while acting like a weird disfunctional family.  
> (I swear I am not trying to do this ummaries bad on purpose, it's a natural talent).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiii.  
> Here we go...this chapter is slightly longer (I believe) and, even though there are some references, I reckon I was able to put them without being too much into the story itself (You are making no sense Marla...)  
> Oh! Important too: I am actually just like Nigel Bottom at the beggining of Something Rotten: I lose my shit for Shakespeare's plays...specialy Macbeth, so...Macbeth is in the plot, literally, they have a whole conversation about Macbeth (Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet are also mencioned in the chapter) and I included some of the dialogues in "Shakespirian language", but don't worry, I also included the "translated" versión (between brakets).  
> So, to sum up, sorry for this (teeny tiny, sorry, had to say it) Bible más all the possible spelling mistakes,  
> Hope you enjoy this,  
> Marla

IT'S NOISY UPTOWN  
Nick was cleaning up his hands with a victorious smirk after fulfilling Galavant's plan.  
In a first instance, the idea of beating up The Bard as a revenge and a way to let all the anger go free sounded childish to him. But that feeling lasted only a few seconds and, then, the brilliance of his archenemy's grandfather's plan, as weird as it sounded, shined in his head like a million candlelights.  
He turned to Nigel, who was just looking at them uncomfortably.  
“Sure you don't want to give it a try? You have more reasons than anyone else in the room.” He asked his younger brother.  
“No, no thanks, I am not very keen on violence, nor revenge”.  
To everyone's surprise, Shakespeare bursted into spontaneous laughter while incorporating from the floor.  
“The jerk is thoughter than he looks like.” Gareth pointed out with a hint of respect, to which Galavant, Richard, Sid, and even Nostradamus, agreed with a nod.  
Madalena and Isabella sighted at unison while muttering 'men’. Portia, appearing from behind them, grabbed each with an one of her arms.  
“See? You can also be of one mind!”  
They rolled their eyes simultaneously while Bea smiled with pride at her sister-in-law.  
Nick groaned.  
“That is all very good, but...why on fucking Earth are you laughing?!”  
“Oh! Right! You didn't read Hamlet because you were too busy with that disastrous play you shamelessly 'stole’ from me...How can someone who has written anything like The First Draft of Hamlet say that he is not keen on violence, nor revenge.”  
Nigel blushed and stuttered for a little while, never truly answering the question.  
However, Isabella had something to add.  
“Bold of you to assume that anyone in that circumstance ought to be a He.”  
“What other possibility is there?”  
Galavant scoffed.  
“I can't believe he is carrying our genes.”  
“Galavant, we still don't know what genes are…”Sid pointed out, but he couldn't finish, as Nick has grown as impatient as humanly possible.  
“Well, there is a play to write, a whole country to avoid and an assholish writer to kick out.”  
“Who says I am going anywhere?”  
“And what are you going to do?”  
“Help with the whole Death sentence situation and maybe add a couple of my wonderful verses for that lost cause you want to write?”  
“In exchange of what?”  
“Nothing special...just some help from your brother (and maybe his lady friend too)…I kind of have a great idea but I'd like to do something as good as the last thing 'I’ did.”  
“Well, at least you are honest, for once. But how are you supposed to help us out with the mess you participated in creating in the first place?”  
“Well...I have a flawless idea! I will need that quite remarkable woman who is, surprisingly, your wife. Also known as your Lawyer.”  
Sid stood up.  
“Can I go too? To keep the time overcross going on.”  
“Seems fair, you can be our secretary.”  
“Shit! The squire again!”

Bea, Sid and Shakespeare came back on some lawyerly-ish costumes almost twelve hours later carrying the great news: they were all freed of the Death Sentence.  
Apparently, the real hero had been Sid, as he repeated multiple times, with his usual enthusiasm until everyone's patience had completely vanished (including Nigel, Portia and Richard’s, who were the three more interested on the story by far) and they began to work on their play.

Almost a week later, they has already wrote and composed the whole thing (with songs such as “Everyone Else Is Singing Its Song”, “Let's Generalize About Dragons”, “Dragontopia” or “Seven Realms Christmastime”) and were ready to start rehearsing when everyone noticed three people were missing; a very blonde one, a very pure one and a very puncheable one.  
“Does anyone have a map of where the Hell those three could be?” Madalena asked.  
“Wrong musical”. Nostradamus muttered.  
“Pardon me, weird beared man?”  
“Nothing, nothing but, knowing them...maybe the room where we’ve been writing?”  
All agreed and, as the nosy weird disfunctional family they had become in the last few days, they all went together to find them.

They were exactly were the “seer” had predicted, speaking about something una pretty intense way.  
Portia was the one with the word when they arrived.  
“The idea of the Prophecy and the obsession with climbing the Power is very strong...I believe...The main charact'r shouldst beest a stout complex female leadeth (The main character should be a strong complex female leader)”.  
Both men agreed with a nod, so she continuing speaking with the same old fashioned language.  
“And i has't someone to behold upon to writeth h'r (And I have someone to look upon to write her). Though we might have to change her name a bit...instead of Madalena...what you guys think about Macbeth?” Madalena opened her eyes as wide as possible, total y freaked out, but kind of flattered too.  
“Catchy, specially if she is Scottish”. Nigel added, and he started using the same lenguage too. “And th're might not but beest a spiral of deaths yond endeth up in pure madness (And there must be an spiral of deaths that will end up in pure madness).”  
Will almost clapped and began talking too.  
“As i hath said, thee has't a truly dark side (As I said, you truly have a dark side)”.  
Portia made a funny face that looked too much as if she agreed with The Bard.  
The youngest of the Bottom brothers blussed.  
“I wanteth not to speak of yond (I don’t want to speak about it)...Any idea to share, Shakespeare?”  
“Please, of course.” He cleared his throat theatrically. “And the one who is't shall finally beest h'r downfall shall beest someone whose ang'r shall has't been madeth by h'r on h'r v'ry owneth (And the one who will finally be her downfall will be someone whose anger has been created by her on her own)”.  
“Great! We have it!”  
Nick interrupted Nigel before he could say anything else.  
“Thee three art just helpless daws (You three are just helpless fools). Th're wilt beest a male leadeth if 't be true thee wanteth ot selleth any tickets (There must be a male leader if you truly want to sell any tickets)...God, this is like when you showed me the first draft of Romeo and Juliet and after Mercucio's death Benvolio had a STRAIGHT THREE PAGE MONOLOGUE ABOUT HOW HE LOVED HIM AND MISSED HIS KISSES AND HOW EMPTY HIS WORLD WAS GOING TO BE FROM NOW ON! If I hadn't change it, you'd probably be ruined by know. Audiencie is not ready for representation!” He realised too late what he had just said.  
Everyone stared at him with astonishment while muttering ‘Wait...did you just imply you and Shakespeare used to be closed?” And other things of this fashion. (except for Bea and Will, who just looked at him with pity and amusement respectively).  
Richard turned to Galavant.  
“This is getting uncomf'rtable (This is getting uncomfortable)”.  
“Forsooth t is (Indeed it is)”.  
“Wait, you can also speak that smartass freaky thing?” Gareth asked.  
Galavant nodded.  
“Yeah, the pirates thought us when we were with them; it’s the only way they talk about their feelings, so other rival pirates…”  
“...or men in general.” Added Richard.  
“...or men in general could know they had them.”  
Sid looked at them nervously.  
“This is all very neat, but tension there is staring to be bigger than in a dinner with Isabella and Madalena sitting right next to each other so…”  
“...so then do something Sid!” Galavant yelled.  
And so he did.  
He began singing.

“When we’re together  
I feel so grand  
My heart goes rough-raugh-aooonsq  
When you hold me in your hand  
But I know there’re another dragons  
You would like more  
So, even though  
I’m not the one you adore  
Why not...  
Settle my fire.”

Attention passed from Nick to Sid, who couldn't be happier about it and used it in his favor.  
“Eveyrone, we are on a musical journey! Let's built a new tomorrow here Today!”  
And so they began to,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaah the musical of Tad Cooper is mainly made of Crazy ExGirlfriend song bcs FINAL SEASON AIRING NOW SO PERFECT MOMENT TO ALL YOU GUYS TO START IT (And suffer with us), plus, I know my two fav readers, to Whom we all owe the existance of this crazy fic, love it too.  
> Really whising you liked it (OH, and if anyone wants to write about Sid saving the day as a weird lawyer-secretary...be my guest),  
> Long live and prosperity,  
> Marla Lannister Erso Dan Glokta


	6. WILL HITS NICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is here! (FAR REACH THE POINT OF NO RETUUUUURN, ok, wrong musical, sorry not sorry).  
> Basically, in this chapter we will finally see what it will cost our heroes to go back to their righteous places and time periods...and it won't be the way the had expected.  
> Hope you enjoy the ending of this craziness as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I tried to resist the temptation the whole fic but at the end...YEAH I HAD TO MAKE THE FALSETTOS REFERENCE (sorry, not sorry, I am trash and I know it. Oh! And if you don't know it...YOU ARE GOOGLING IT RIGHT NOW).  
> This is the end, a jam-packed episode with all the craziness I could manage but also a proper ending of the story (I hope, at least).  
> I want to dedicate this (again) to the two girls who inspired me to write this, as well as all the people who had read it (every single hit), this is very important to me (know I am getting emotional..well, shit).  
> Just before I begin, I am sorry (again) for the excesive content of references and I'd like to share the Spotify playilst with all the songs that had been featured of manipulated for the chapters' titles. As well as four bonus tracks from the "Tad Cooper musical (called Dragon Ex-Lizard, by the way)" and two that are hummed by two character in this last chapter...here you have the link, for all of you to enjoy some of my heavy rotation tracks: https://open.spotify.com/user/marlalannisterofslytherin/playlist/4sW90PLsmS0Z0gSFo1DdBv?si=il8oW64ZS5K35Ot5oS87QA  
> Hope you enjoy and sorry for all my quick tipper and Spanish speaker mistakes,  
> Marla  
> Oh, yeah! Crap, I almost forgot...more Shakespirian language. The same as previous chapter: Between brakets the dialogue in plain English ( ) right after it.

WILL HITS NICK  
The play was a total success. At least, artistically and economically speaking (and for the sake of Macbeth, a play written by eight hands that was going to be -in words of its authors-The Best, without further description), because as prophecy-reliable, it has been a total letdown.  
At first, they thought it was because it has to leave a mark amongst its audience for it to do its magic or whatever on Earth it was going to do to bring everyone back to its righteous place. But, after more than a month (in which, miraculously, Isabella and Madalena had learnt not to try to kill each other every five seconds and actually, even agree on some things apart from agree to disagree) desperation was starting to settle in.  
And they were running out of crazy theories of the reasons behind their unsuccess.  
As it had become a habit to do every three nights, they all gathered to explore new plans of action; although most times they just end up bitching about the others, a specially disrespectful audience or just having a laugh while drinking anything but water.  
“Haply t is because we art using amateurs as act'rs. (Maybe it is because we are using amateurs as actors).” Shakespeare complaint while pointing at the “time travelled” gang, drunk enough not to realise not everyone understood that way of speaking but not drunk enough to do it improperly.  
Galavant, in the same spirituous state, took it as a personal offence.  
“Ey! Have a respect for your elders! (Ey! Have a respect for your elders!)”. He replied.  
The other man gave him a confused look.  
“But we art the same age! (But we are the same age!)”  
“Or. art we? (Or...are we?)”  
“What art thee implying, grandfath'r? (What are you implying, Grandfather?)”  
Madalena, who had learned that particular vocabulary with Portia's help in exchange of trying to get on better with Isabella (and because she thought it feeted her wicked buf charming style), groaned.  
“Argh, i am sick and not restful of both thee. Tis fine, which one of thee two wanteth to bid us first his real age? (Argh, I am sick and tired of both you. Ok, which one of you two want to tell us first his real age?)”  
An ominous silence extended through the whole room.  
Portia approached Nigel’s ear tenderly and muttered: “Seeth? Our p'rfect Macbeth. (See? Our perfect Macbeth.)”  
Unluckily for her, the Former Queen heard her.  
“What did you just said?” She said, going back to regular Historically Inaccurate English.  
The blonde pretended not to have heard her and started humming.  
“Every time I hear a perfect rhyme I get all tingly  
Because I know  
That to find a perfect rhyme is not an easy thing-ly…”

Another week went by, with the same results. Nostradamus was far beyond consolation.  
“I don’t get this...I swear...this time I got It right, no mistakes in what I heard”.  
Bea frowned, with a slightly suspicious expression on her face.  
“Could you repeat the prophecy?”  
Everyone but Richard gave her an odd look.  
“Why? Weren’t you here when I told all of you?” The man sounded kind of offended.  
“Of course she wasn't! She was taking care of my little great-granddaughter! A toddler needs a lot of parental attention to be okay. I should know, as I was given almost none by my parents. (Fuging Kingsley!)”  
Gareth stared at Richard with astonishment.  
“Wow, you are really great-granddad of the year. Now, you over-bearded man, repeat the thing, I want to go back to my bloody time! I miss killing people on the tabern not being illegal!”  
And so he did, making, to the surprise of the rest of the group, Bea laugh as hard as she was able to.  
“Did you all believe that  
‘Only a true honest open feeling declaration  
made with a poetic inclination  
that should have been done a long time ago  
will bring you all home.’  
meant that we had to dedicate a musical to a long dead dragon who had always been treated with love by its beloved ones?”  
Nick coughed hesitantly.  
“I thought it was the most logical thing…”  
Bea smiled tenderly but exasperatedly at the same time.  
“God, why do I love this idiot so much…?”  
She turned to Shakespeare and tilted her head a bit while crossing her arms.  
“Well well William...maybe it's about time you tell Something to Someone.” She pointed at Nick with her chin, who just made some cinic nasal noises.  
“Oh, come on! Everyone knows the only thing ‘A Bard’ feels towards me is loathing…” He felt the pain of the hand reaching violently his face seconds later.  
Shakespeare had slapped him.  
“Stand ho believing thee knoweth what i bethink all the timeth! i. I may still. I kind of. Th're might beest a s'rious imp'rtant w'rd involv'd. (Stop believing you know what I think all the time! I...I may still...I kind of...There might be a serious important word involved)”. Bea grew impatient, she didn't need to understand that language to know when someone was hesitant.  
“Spill it out, you twat.”  
“Better in plain English!” Gareth was not going to say it out loud, but he was eager to hear what the man had to say.  
“I sometimes regret I did all I did -even the parts you don't about- before you start saying ‘screw you’ only in the pejorative way and missed you, even just a co-co-co-quill.”  
Everyone seemed to be processing with they have heard, but only Sid put it in words.  
“Wait, but the other sense of ‘screw you’ means the physical act of the F word…” Bea shut him up with a finger.  
“Yeah, yeah, little man, but the guy isn’t done. Now, end your declaration, I don’t want people to feel pity for you. Tell all of us the Other Reason you helped us, the one you don’t share with me.”  
“What if I don’t want to?” Bea winked to Isabella, who approached the man with a sword.  
“Then your grandmother will make you much more like Miguel de Cervantes.”  
“Alright...As long as you were here in London, I’d have to remember what I had done to all of you and...that might involve growing guilt and therefore a conscience, which I honestly don’t want to have. Oh, and now that we have done Dragon Ex-Lizard, the moment you reappear in America, all the money and fame will be for me.”  
Nick’s face went red.  
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” He pointed his fist in the other man’s direction and started running towards him.  
Before any of Galavant’s gang could see if the punch arrived at its destination. They found themselves in a totally different place.  
They were home...

..well, more like the Wicked Wizard’s home, but still, more home than London.  
However, the Jester, the Chef, Gwynne and Roberta were there, playing card; but they were not playing alone, there was also a girl with a T-shirt that read ‘France Before Your Pants!’  
And they all knew her, kind of.  
“Yeah, it’s me, your personal Stan Lee, the crazy bitch that killed Tad Cooper and had written kind of a lot of words of crossover time travelling nonsense (that, don’t worry, you are already forgetting in order not to screw-up the timeline I created myself and substituting with some bland memories...as bland as this solution). I thought about wearing a Hail Hydra T-shirt..but I have one of them in Boring World, so...I always wanted this one, so...now I have it.” She smiled mischievously and turned to look directly into the horizon. “By the way, thank you so much to all the people who has been reading this, you mean the world to me; especially to those people who left kudos.”  
Everyone was looking as her as the mad woman-child she was acting as. And she, as she is also writing this, obviously noticed.  
“Oh, yeah, I should stop doing this Stephen King in the Dark Tower thingy...but, before, I have something...something to compensate a little bit the whole Tad Cooper situation, I needed the macguffin, so sorry. Hence…” She opened a tiny backpack and put a lizard that looked just like the deceased dragon from it. “This is Harry Darcy, he is also a dragon. Well, will be, with time, now…” She seemed to realised something all of the sudden. “Shit, I am late for sleeping, (late) again. Gotta go…”She bit her lip with excitement and, before disappearing, screamed ‘GERONIMO!’  
“Well, that was weird.” Roberta said, while looking with tenderness at Richard, who was hugging Harry Darcy and singing to him with a soft voice  
“Imagine the wonder that we'll inspire...  
Ahh ahh ahh woooo!  
When we are setting their heads on fire.  
Then they'll believe in my dragon pal and me!”  
“So...now, we only have to figure out in our own what to do with the whole Madalena-going-on-a-crazy-search-for-power-madness, right?” Galavant asked, while sitting and muttering ‘too old for this shit’.  
Isabella noded, putting her hand on her husband’s shoulder, also tired.  
“Yeah, that and the elephant in the room...or more, the lack of elephant in the room…  
...where is the owner of the castle..?”

 

...America, Independence War.  
“He’s constantly confusing, confounding the British henchmen  
Everyone give it up for America’s favorite fighting Frenchman!”  
Someone appeared out of the blue.  
“Lafay...the fuck?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is over, honestly.  
> Yeah, I named a wanna-be dragon after Colin Firth's characters (he has played tow Harrys and two Darcys so...perfect) and I am not ashamed of it.  
> I honestly have no words to express how much this whole thing means to me and I would just love to hear of all of you, your higlights (if there are any) from this mess-up story or, in general, any feedbacck. Even if you want to write a sequel, or a spin-off or whatever, I'd feel flattered.  
> Or just read it, just enjoy it, just let this make you smile and forget your troubles for a little bit, that would be enough (Eliza's voice mode ON)  
> Long live and prosperity,  
> Marla Lannister Erso Dan Glokta  
> And remember, to thine own self be true.

**Author's Note:**

> And...we are off on a hero's journey.  
> Did you like this beggining?  
> Promise to bring more content in less than a week.  
> Long live and prosperity,  
> Marla
> 
> (Btw, if anyone is asking it...yep, the wizard is a magical version of Count Olaf in disguise!)


End file.
